


Drowning

by orphan_account



Series: Chasing Seeker [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe-Non Magic, Blind Character, Blind Regulus, CODA James, Deaf Characters - Freeform, Extreme grief, Genderfluid Sirius, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mourning, Multi, Polyamory, aromantic Lily, established relationships - Freeform, loss of a parent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 14:17:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7644247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> “Harry keeps asking me if it’s going to be okay.  And I tell him yes, because logic dictates that the living do get over their grief.  But it feels like a lie.  It feels like a lie, Reg.  Every time I remember I have to live the rest of my life without him, I feel like I’m drowning.  How the hell do I tell Harry it’s going to be okay when I don’t know if it is?”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>James isn't exactly sure how he's supposed to tell anyone it's going to be okay, when he himself doesn't know how to be okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowning

**Author's Note:**

> Blatant self-insert. My SO thought fanficc'ing my feelings might help. I'm not sure if it did. But it's four AM and I'm still in Brighton and I can't sleep. I'm still not back, I have no idea when I'll be writing again, or back on social media. But I just figured I'd post this anyway.
> 
> Please don't read this if grieving or loss of a parent triggers you. It's dealing with intense, raw emotions of loss and may be triggering to some.

James was mucking about with his mobile at the door, and pushed inside when he heard the giggling of their daughter, loud enough to seep into the corridor. He couldn’t help the automatic smile it put on his face as he stepped inside, and his eyes immediately fixed on the pair sat on the sofa.

Tilly was perched on Regulus’ lap, a book in front of her. Regulus’ hand was curled round her, his fingers ghosting over the braille of the brightly illustrated books, and as he always did, he was making up the story as he went along.

“…and then the very little caterpillar said, ‘I’m going to jump of the pages and eat the little girl!’” With that, his hand came off the book and began to pinch lightly at her sides.

Tilly threw her head back, squealing and wriggling in his arms. “Papa, that’s not how it goes!” she insisted. “That’s not right!”

Regulus pulled a frown. “Isn’t it? That’s what it says right here!”

Tilly shook her head and grabbed his hand, pushing his fingers back to the braille. “Nuh uh! It says the capitalla eats all the yummy leaves, not little girls!”

“Oh I don’t know. I’m pretty sure this word right here isn’t leaves, but little girls called Tilly.” He pinched at her cheeks again. “Om nom nom!”

“Daddy!” Tilly cried, seeing him watching. “Papa’s telling it all wrong again.”

“All wrong?” James asked, crossing the room in a few short strides to drop down next to his husband and daughter. “Oh no. What are we going to do?”

“I don’t know!” Tilly said.

Regulus smirked as James leant in. “Maybe you should read it to Papa to remind him how it goes.”

“I don’t want toooooo,” she whinged, throwing herself back against Regulus’ chest. “I want to watch Sophia the First now.”

Regulus groaned. “Again? Love, we had it on all day.”

“Puh-leeeeeaseeeeeeee,” she cried.

James chuckled, then grabbed the remote to restart the DVD in spite of his husband’s long groan. “Oh let her. It means she’ll…” He was going to say she would get down and play, but he didn’t need to. She slipped away from Regulus’ arms, grabbing her Sophia doll, and went to dance in front of the telly.

James took the opportunity to shift over, grinning when Regulus lifted an arm to draw him close. Turning his face, James pressed several slow kisses to the underside of Regulus’ jaw.

“Miss me?” Regulus breathed.

“So much. What a shite day. Tell me again why I went into teaching instead of what I really wanted to do?”

“What was that again? Circus clown?” Reg asked with a smirk.

James reached down, pinching Reg near the ribs where he knew his husband was most ticklish. Regulus cried out and squirmed, shoving James with his elbow. “Prat,” James said, and grabbed him by the chin, turning his face to kiss him properly. “I always forget how bloody busy it gets right before start of term. I’m exhausted and haven’t even met my students yet.”

“You’ll be fine. Just like you are every year. And with Tills starting this year to, it’ll be easier.”

“Going to miss her, aren’t you?” James said.

“Her, yes. This bloody DVD, maybe not so much,” Regulus groaned, leaning into James. “Maybe I’ll get a hobby. Get Moony to teach me to knit or something.”

“Oh now that I’d like to see,” James said. He took the opportunity whilst their daughter was occupied, to slide his hand under Regulus’ shirt and splay flat along his stomach. “Heard from Haz at all today?”

“Mm,” Regulus said. “He and Lils will be back for dinner. She’s got two weeks before she’s off again.”

“Where to this time?” James murmured.

“Costa Rica, I think,” Regulus said, his eyes fluttering closed at James’ light touches. “This one is four months, I think she said. Wants to get time in with the kids before she’s off.”

James smiled, taking a moment to feel a sense of pride in their unique family dynamic. He’d known both Regulus and Lily most of his life, having attended the incredibly Posh public school, Hogwarts, with the pair of them. None of them had particularly got on at the beginning. James had come from a large Tamil family, though he was the only child of his parents, and overly spoilt. His experiences had been different than most kids, the only hearing child in a Deaf family that stretched back several generations.

He immediately got on with Sirius, Regulus’ sibling, and although he’d had a crush on the blind boy for years, their relationship was mostly antagonistic. It wasn’t until Regulus had broken away from his bigoted parents that he was able to move past some of the things drilled into him—things that also took Sirius years to overcome.

James had also fancied Lily for years, but eventually she confessed that whilst she didn’t mind physical relationships, she was aromantic. James felt a bit heartbroken over it, but they were able to become friends, and although they’d crossed the line into sex a few times, James felt content with what he had with her.

Shortly before Harry was born, Regulus showed up at Sirius and Remus’ door, looking shaken and lost. It didn’t take long after for Regulus to find his way into James’ heart, and into his bed, and eventually with a ring on his finger and the title of Papa to a newborn Harry.

Regulus also didn’t put an end to what James had with Lily. Matilda was born almost nine years later. Lily’s parents had passed, and feeling vulnerable, she went to James for comfort. They’d used protection, but it was written in the stars that night their family would grow by one more.

Regulus was over the moon about it. More than he loved anything in the world, he loved being a father. He was a natural at it, and somehow—between the three of them—their family worked. Lily travelled for her job nine or ten months out of the year, spending as much time as she could with the kids, but having two steady parents at home left the family comfortable and happy. Both Harry and Matilda loved them all to death, and though it would seem strange to those outside, James didn’t care. So long as they were happy and safe, he didn’t care.

Turning his face, he nuzzled into Regulus’ neck. “What’s for tea? Any plans?”

“I think Lily’s got that covered as well. Harry probably talked her into something horrid like pizza, but whatever. I can live with it.”

James snorted as his husband’s fussy eating habits. Where others might be annoyed, he found it endearing, and had to kiss him again. “We can get something later. Like a salad.”

“Shut up,” Regulus said, entirely without venom. “Have you heard from Sirius at all?”

“She rang up earlier today, during my lunch,” James said. “She and Remus got into Chennai yesterday, and they’re already helping mum and dad set everything up.”

Regulus smiled against James’ temple where he was resting his lips. “When are they back?”

“Couple of weeks,” James murmured, nuzzling into Regulus a bit more. “Ah what a shite week, love.”

Regulus dug his fingers into James’ hair, mussing the locks even more before dragging the backs of his knuckles down James’ cheek. “Yeah?”

“Well there was the thing at the doctor,” James said, shifting so he could lay his head into Regulus’ lap. His husband shifted to accommodate him, his hand still brushing through the messy locks. His gaze was wandering round the room, but his ear was tipped slightly toward James. “The shite with the rumours at the school, which is what had me up pacing all night the other night. Had to deal with those parents at the park when Tilly was talking about her two daddies and her mummy.”

“Ah, right,” Regulus said, having gotten an earful of James’ rant about cis-hets who felt victimised when James had gotten a bit shirty with them after their invasive comments. “Those ones.”

“Just not sure how much more I can take,” James groaned. He turned on his side, his body awkwardly half-hanging off the sofa, but he managed to snake one arm round Regulus’ waist, and he buried his face in his husband’s abdomen. “Like honestly, can it get any worse?”

“Isn’t that like tempting the fates?” Regulus asked with a wry grin.

“Shut it,” James said, his voice muffled by Reg’s t-shirt.

Before either of them could carry on, the front door opened and Harry called out, “Home. We got Chinese.”

“Oh that’s better than I expected,” Regulus said. He shoved at James, who whinged a bit, but moved so Regulus could get up. 

After a beat, he followed the other man into the kitchen, resting his hand lightly on Regulus’ shoulder as Regulus’ hand drifted out. Harry moved into it almost instantly, giving his papa a kiss on the cheek. “Have a good day?” Regulus asked. He turned toward Lily who provided her own cheek-kiss.

“Not bad. Got what I needed for school. Had my fitting for the footie kit,” Harry said. “Not much bigger than last year.”

“Except the shoes,” Lily said, shaking her head. Her red curls tumbled over her shoulder, and she brushed them back impatiently. “He’s grown two sizes. He’s going to be taller than you.”

James rolled his eyes, but smiled as he snaked an arm round Regulus’ waist and peered at the table. “Well, someone had to be. Anyway what did you bring?”

“Mummy,” Tilly cried, dashing into the room. “Did you bring me chocolate?”

When Lily said yes, Regulus scowled, and everyone let out a tiny laugh.

*** 

Dinner was nice enough, the five of them bypassing the kitchen table in favour of having a small picnic on the floor. James’ stress level destroyed his appetite, but he was enjoying the conversation, and Harry’s enthusiasm over heading back to school.

“…and Wood says I won’t need to try out again, the position is mine. Which, I mean…I suppose I did well enough.”

Regulus snorted. “You managed to win three games last year without letting a single ball through, Harry. I’d say that’s more than well enough.”

Harry beamed into his noodles and shrugged. “Reckon so. I’m just excited. I think I’ll be in the running for captain next year. I mean, assuming I do well enough on my exams.”

“They’re not so bad,” Lily said, elbowing her eldest. “Everyone makes them seem terrifying.”

“Paddy told me that Moony was beside himself, sick every single day until they were over. Lost almost two stone not being able to eat.”

“Yes well, your godfather is a bloody liar,” Regulus said.

Tilly gasped. “Papa! Bad words!”

Regulus reached out until he found her hair, and gave her a soothing pat. “Sorry, love. But honestly Harry, don’t listen to him. He’s just winding you up. You’re smart, you’ve got some of the best marks of your year. It’s going to be alright. And next year will be easier.”

“I just…having to pick my courses and decide what I want to do feels like…a lot of pressure,” Harry said.

“And now you’re starting to sound like your mum,” James complained.

Lily tossed a few grains of rice at him, which missed and hit Regulus who startled, then scowled. She giggled, “Sorry Reg. Was aiming for James.”

“Do better, he’s right next to you. I’m the only blind one here and I’m pretty sure I can do better than that.”

Lily threw a bit more rice, which hit them both, and James huffed, swiping them both clean. “Anyway,” he said with a sigh, “it’s nothing to get yourself worked up over. It’ll be fine. You’ll study, you’ll be stressed. Then it’ll be over, you’ll come home, and we can spend the summer going over your options.”

Harry’s shoulders relaxed a little. “Just feels like it’s all happening so fast.”

“Tell me about it,” Regulus complained. “I swear not three months ago you were a babbling toddler running round with bells on your shoes.”

Most teens would have been embarrassed, but Harry loved his parents so much, he merely leant into his papa and rested his cheek against Regulus’ shoulder. “Pretty soon it’ll be my kids tormenting you with the quiet game and mixing up your sock colours.”

Regulus grumbled, but put his arm round Harry’s shoulder and kissed the top of his head. “Please don’t rush into that one too fast. I don’t even think I have silver hairs yet.”

James grinned round at his family, feeling like possibly this was the only thing keeping him afloat. It might have been one of the worst weeks of his life, but with them, he swore he could face anything.

 _Bring it, Universe,_ he thought to himself.

In hindsight, temping the Universe, was probably a very bad idea.

*** 

It was nearly two am when James woke up to a prodding hand. His eyes blinked, blurry without his glasses, and in the faint light from the street, he could make out Lily’s form bent over him. She was close enough he could make out her expression, which looked almost frantic.

“Lils?” he asked, his voice sleep thick.

“James, it’s Sirius,” she said.

He sat bolt-upright. “What? What’s wrong with Si? Hurt or…?”

“No,” Lily said, and this time he could hear the strain in her voice. “He’s…on the phone. James it’s…”

Instead of answering, she shoved it at him, and he took it, pressing the device to his ear. “Si?”

There was a long pause, then a sniffle. “Jamie,” Sirius said. “Jamie I…it’s dad.”

Days later, James would attempt to remember this moment with some type of clarity, but all that would stick out was the ringing in his ears. He recalled hearing the word ‘stroke’ and ‘couldn’t revive him’ and ‘should get here as soon as you can.’ He tried to remember if Reg had woken up straight away, or if Lily had hugged him.

Nothing actually made any sense until he was sat in the terminal at Heathrow with Regulus on one side, Lily on the other holding a sleeping Tilly, Harry’s head pillowed against her thick thigh as the teen stretched out along the seats.

They had an hour before their flight, a miracle they could find one at the hour. James alternated between shivering—his jaw trembling like he was standing in sub-zero temperatures—and feeling like the walls were closing in on him. Several times it felt like he couldn’t remember how to breathe, like every single breath had to be a conscious effort.

Several times he found himself gasping for air, leaning forward. Each time Regulus would place his warm hand on the small of his back as he attempted to come back to himself. Most of the time he felt like he was floating, like it was a dream he was fading in and out of.

A tiny bit of his mind screamed for him to wake up. Just wake up. Wake up and make it fucking stop because there was no way he was supposed to live in a world without Fleamont Potter.

Those thoughts made his eyes burn and stray tears he was desperate to stop escape the corners of his eyes. He knew if he wasn’t careful, he’d give in, but if he did that, he wouldn’t be able to make it end. He’d just cry until there wasn’t a drop left in his body.

Until he, too, dropped dead.

He curled his hands into fists, letting his blunt nails dig into his palms in an attempt to keep himself centred.

They were called to board, and he followed, letting Regulus propel him forward, down the ramp, into the seats.

Lily said something, telling him not to worry about the kids. Part of him wanted her to throw them at him. It would give him something to do, something to focus on. Instead he was sitting in silence with Regulus drawing lines on his palm, trying to contemplate the idea that his father was no longer alive.

That there was no way he could just send a text or pop open skype or fly over there and find himself engulfed in a hug.

Part of him hoped that this was some horrid, cruel, evil prank Sirius thought was a good idea, and he’d find himself furious but more than that, thankful it had all just been a nasty lie.

*** 

From the look on Sirius’ face when they landed, he knew every bit of hope he’d held deep in his chest was crushed. Sirius didn’t speak, just took James into an embrace and whispered nonsense words through tears. James, once again, felt like someone was digging into his chest and ripping out his still-beating heart.

How was he supposed to live like this? How did anyone survive this pain?

Regulus’ thin fingers curled round his bicep kept him grounded for the moment. “Sirius is having me drive,” Remus said as they approached. “He can’t really focus right now. I hope that’s alright.”

James wanted to ask why Remus thought they would care, but he had to suppose on some level this was just him not being sure what might set any of them off. It was a nightmare.

This. This was his worst nightmare.

This was a pain he was sure would never, ever, ever stop.

The drive was foggy, and James came to when he was standing in his mum’s lounge. She was there, uncharacteristically quiet—though what was characteristic for losing a spouse. She’d never been through it before. She didn’t greet James with signs, merely took his face between her hands and kissed his forehead.

That small gesture sent James flying out of the room, to his old bedroom where he slammed the door and didn’t come out for the next hour. He was both hurt and grateful no one had come after him.

When he finally did venture out, only Sirius was left in the lounge. He was on the sofa, a pot of cooling tea on the table. James could smell the spices, and had it been any other time, he would have given in to the craving for his mum’s masala chai.

His stomach roiled at the thought of attempting anything, and he decided to take comfort in the thing he wanted most. He spread himself lengthwise on the sofa, and put his head into Sirius’ lap. Long fingers brushed immediately into his hair, and when he looked up, he saw Sirius’ face still wet with tears.

“We were having a walk,” Sirius said, his voice tense, choked. “He said he wasn’t feeling well, things felt off. Said he just needed to walk it off. Mum thought it was probably a bad idea, was pestering him about seeing a doctor because he’d been off a few days, but I thought maybe air would do him good. They said…” Sirius’ voice broke here, and he had to take a long pause. “They said it wouldn’t have made a difference. The walk had nothing to do with it.”

James swallowed and tried to speak, but the lump in his throat prevented him from making a noise, so he raised his hands. ‘Was it quick?’

Sirius looked at him, then shrugged. “He went down. He…” Sirius had to stop again. “His signs were off. Not making sense. I thought he’d tripped. He went to his knees first. Then he looked at me like he didn’t know who I was. Then he was…then he was…” Sirius sniffled and swallowed thickly. More tears dripped down, falling from his nose and chin. James felt his own cheeks wet, though he couldn’t remember starting to cry. “His eyes shut. That was it. By the time the paramedics got there, he was gone. I tried to remember…you know. How to…” Sirius made a vague gesture of resuscitation. “I couldn’t. They said it wouldn’t have mattered.”

“It was a stroke,” James managed to choke out. “It wouldn’t have.” Struggling to sit up, he took Sirius into his arms, put his face in his sibling's neck, and let himself cry.

It would not be the only time he let himself go that week, but it was the first, and it was the one person he wanted to be vulnerable with at that moment. 

For his part, Sirius merely held him, and they cried together.

*** 

The rest of the week was filled with family. Family who wanted James to do this or that. James was occupied with attempting to keep Regulus in the loop since almost none of them were verbal, and Regulus was only somewhat versed in tactile sign. It was keeping him exhausted, but distracted which was what he needed.

The funeral was approaching, and every time he thought about the moment—when it was officially over, when they could admit that Fleamont Potter was dead and there would be no more of him left—he felt like he was dying along with his father. Several times his knees threatened to give out.

Lily eventually took Tilly and Harry away, the two overwhelmed by the amount of family, and the criticism over their brand of mourning. They were told too often it was not a time to be sad, it was a time to celebrate the life Fleamont lived. It was all well and good for those who hadn’t loved Fleamont as much as James’ family did, but for James and his children, it was too much to bear.

Regulus found James in his room, curled up at the window. Regulus navigated through the discarded clothes and open cases with the edge of his cane, and eventually set it to the side so he could curl up on the sill with his husband.

For a while, neither of them said a word. Regulus tucked James between his legs, and just held him.

After what seemed like an eternity, James spoke. “Harry keeps asking me if it’s going to be okay. And I tell him yes, because logic dictates that the living do get over their grief. But it feels like a lie. It feels like a fucking lie, Reg. Every time I remember I have to live the rest of my life without him, I feel like I’m drowning. How the hell do I tell Harry it’s going to be okay when I don’t know if it is?”

Regulus didn’t say much, merely buried his face in James’ neck and squeezed. “I love you,” he murmured.

James opened his mouth to reply. It was always automatic, but instead of the words, he began to sob. Broken, angry cries falling from his lips like a waterfall. His entire body shook with it, and if it hadn’t been for Reg holding him together, he would have shaken apart.

Eventually he calmed, and he turned. Somehow, although he was larger, he managed to curl into his husband’s arms, and he pushed his ear to Regulus’ heart. He could feel it more than he could hear it, a sort of gentle thrum against his cheek.

“This hurts too much,” James groaned. Regulus replied by dragging fingers through his hair. “I don’t want to love anything, because losing it like this hurts.”

“It’s too late for you, Potter,” Regulus murmured. “You love too many people already, and you’re too far gone to stop.”

James clenched his jaw and wanted to be angry, but mostly he was just tired. Just…so tired. He rose from his spot, took both of Regulus’ hands in his, and pulled him to the bed. It smelt like his father—like their home. Like his woodsy scent and spices and laundry powder and…everything he’d grown up with. If he closed his eyes and remembered hard enough, he could hear his dad’s laugh. He could see his fingers flicking through signs, and the way his mouth moved when James was five and wanted to know how to pronounce his own name. It was so mangled, because Fleamont had never tried to say it before, and he and James had laughed and laughed over it.

Fleamont had taught him about music, and how to dance. He taught him that you didn’t have to let what the world thought of you shape the way you thought of yourself. 

He’d been the first one to hold both of James’ kids. He’d given them their sign names. 

He’d given James his first language, and his second, and his third. He’d taught James how to read, and how to find ripe melons at the market.

There was too much. Too much he’d done, too much he had left to do.

There would be an emptiness forever, lodged in the centre of his chest, and James was certain it was never going to stop hurting.

“How do I make it feel better?” James groaned, tugging Regulus close.

“You don’t,” his husband replied. “You just hold me any time you need me. And you cry when you need to cry. You hide under the duvet for days, and forget to shower, and stop eating. Then you have too much pie and watch funny movies and take Harry to school. You help read Tilly her bedtime stories and remember when her bath time is. And you’ll get sad when you realise the emails aren’t coming in anymore, and you’ll be angry at every single email you ever deleted that had come from him. Even spam.”

James was sobbing by this point, but quietly, into the front of Regulus’ nightshirt. He was clinging on, as though if he let go, Regulus too would be gone forever, and James would be alone. 

“Eventually you learn to breathe again. And exist again. And you remember I’m here, and Lily. And our beautiful children. You remember that Sirius is hurting as much as you, and you remember how to be strong for Sirius because Sirius will remember to be strong for you.”

James swiped his face on the front of Regulus’ shirt, then brought his mouth up to kiss his husband. Regulus made a startled noise, but when James tried to pull away, Reg cupped his cheek and held him fast. The kisses were wet, salty, chaste, but warm and full of purpose. They were full of a future James had to believe they had together.

“Promise me you won’t die.”

“I promise,” Regulus said, and James smiled. Because had it been anyone else, Regulus would have given the ugly, blunt truth—we’re all going to die someday, James. But Regulus, who loved him, who adored him—who James adored right fucking back—knew what James needed to hear. “I sold both our souls to the devil. That pitch-fork, red fellow with the cloven feet that all those Christians are into? He made me a great deal. He gets our souls, but we get immortality. We just have to do his bidding every so often.”

“I’ll take it,” James said, his voice broken, but a smile still on his lips.

“Thought you might.” Regulus brushed his lips along James cheeks, his fingers following the path gently, soothing him until his breathing went more steady. “It’s not okay. I don’t know when it’ll be okay. But I’m here.”

James closed his eyes, and held Regulus as tight as he dared, and let the steady beat of his husband’s heart remind him that he still had something. Yes, he still felt like he was drowning, and no, he wasn’t sure he’d ever be okay. But he had this.

He had this.


End file.
